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The Darkling Plain

Episode 5

Chapter 2

Every eye in the bar turned to them as they strode in. Spike's bruises seemed to accentuate the leather and metal look he'd gone for. Time seemed to move slower as their coats billowed out behind them, but they all conceded that might have been the alcohol and drugs they'd been enjoying all night.

Spike pushed Sam and Jordan toward a table where they could enjoy watching the floorshow and went to buy more essential supplies.

When he slid in next to Sam, he fished for his cigarettes and watched, fascinated, as one lit itself. He laughed and pulled Sam in for a kiss. 'Officially stoned now.'

Sam grinned and licked around the inside of Spike's mouth provocatively, breathing softly, 'This is gonna be your arse later, Baby.'

Spike pulled away for a moment and took a drink of whisky, then mouthed it back to Sam. He slid his foot up into Jordan's lap and found the erection he'd been encouraging all evening.

Laughing, pulling away, Sam began to pour them all drinks, and they turned to the show for while, just enjoying the buzz.

After a few minutes, Spike sensed someone watching them, but before he could negotiate turning his head, two girls slipped into the table with them.

Jordan grinned and shifted up accommodatingly. Spike raised an eyebrow but offered them the bottle. Sam gritted his teeth. 'You're barking up the wrong…. Ow!'

Spike smiled sweetly at him then turned back to the girl next to him. 'Hello. Do you come here often?'

The girl gave him a patronising look. 'That the best you can do?'

Spike jerked his head back a little then began to laugh as if he couldn't stop. Between hiccups, he managed to say, 'No. I could bite you and give you eternal life. That good enough for you, Bitch?'

She slid back out of the booth and pulled her friend with her.

Spike watched them go with a frown and turned sadly to Sam. 'I didn't get to tell her we were both millionaires and can shag for England.'

Jordan slid lower in his seat and began to repay the favours Spike's foot was giving him with his own. 'So… what's it like being… rich?'

Spike plucked another cigarette from his dwindling supply and indicated for Sam to light it for him. He puffed for a moment, considering. Suddenly seeming to sober, he leant forward seriously. 'I want to buy you both presents. Cus I love you.'

That finished off any attempts at a conversation for the night. Sam wrestled Spike's head down to his lap, slapping at him, until Spike's face stayed a little too long down there.

Jordan stood up uncertainly. 'If we don't fuck soon, I'm gonna pass out.'

Spike sat up and hopped out inelegantly, pulling Sam to his feet.

'Where are we?'

No one knew, so they made an equally impressive exit and swayed slightly unsteadily on the sidewalk until Jordan hailed a cab.

'Whose place?'

Spike wrinkled his nose slightly. 'Better not push it too much- not mine.'

Jordan seemed engrossed in something and didn't reply, so they settled on Sam's.

By the time the driver pulled up at the apartment, they were all asleep, and he turned and shouted at them disgustedly. Feeling slightly less magical, they piled out, and someone paid.

Sam only just made it to his bathroom before vomiting. Jordan used the kitchen sink. Spike laid very still on his back on the bed, holding it in, as befitted a superior being.

He felt the mattress depress on one side, then the other. Warm bodies pressed to him, and that was the last any of them knew that night.

Spike woke when his cell phone rang.

He couldn't find it so went back to the place he'd been in where nothing hurt.

It rang again, but he had the distinct impression that some considerable time had passed since the last interruption.

This time, he fumbled through his pockets and answered it. 'Y-uh.'

'Good afternoon.'


'Good night?'


'Coming home sometime soon?'


'I miss you.'


'And maybe do all the vomiting there, before you get here?'

'Uhh… fu….'

He tipped his head off the bed and retched weakly.



Oblivion was so welcome.

The phone rang again. It was dark, so Spike surmised more time had passed.



'Time to come home.'

Spike sat up and rubbed his hand through his hair. 'Shit, I think they're dead. No, it's okay.'

Angel held the phone away for a moment, smiling, then put it back to his ear. 'It's kinda quiet here.'

'You in the office?'


'Jesus. Way to shave a few years off my eternity.'

'So… how did the… go?'

'The small, tactful pause went nowhere, Angel. I couldn't get vomit up, let alone my cock.'

Now grinning broadly, Angel said softly, 'But, Spike, I help the hopeless….'

Spike cupped the phone in both hands, his voice lowering. 'Hmm. That sounds… interesting. What are your rates?'

'How much can you afford?'

'Quite a lot, thanks to a very, very grateful customer.'

'Mmm. Did he pay well?'

'Fucking millions.'

'You must have been… good.'

'Actually, I think I was bad, but the effect was the same.'

'He sounds… twisted.'

'Hmm. Twisted around my little finger.'

'Is that so?'

'Yeah. You got a problem with that?'

'I've a problem with something else…. I need a… hand.'

Spike hissed softly. 'Can you resist touching it 'til I get there?'

'I could try. What would I get for being good?'

'Anything you want.'

'I just want you.'

'You've got that.'

'Not here where I want you though.'

'Ten minutes.'


'Stop fucking talking to me then.'

'Hang up then.'

'No touching. I'll know.'

'Hang up!'

Spike slid off the bed and pulled the covers over his still unconscious friends. With a grin, he went to Sam's telephone and scrawled an abusive message on the pad.

Wishing he had a watch so he could see the minutes pass, he flew down to the street and hailed another cab.

The elevator doors slid open, and he practically fell into Angel's waiting arms. They kissed, peeling off their clothes as he backed Angel toward the bed. 'Been good?'

Angel nodded.

'Okay, claim your prize.'



Angel held the manacles up and waved them slowly in front of Spike's face.

Spike pouted slightly. 'You know I don't like….'

'That was when I did it for real as your sire.'

Spike tipped his head on one side and looked at him. 'Yeah. Okay.'

Angel nodded and ran his hands up Spike's sides. 'I missed you.'

'I thought about you once or twice.'

Angel chuckled and clicked one handcuff in place. 'I'm going to make you beg for me, for once.'

Spike gave him a sweet smile. 'You can try. Ain't gonna happen though.'

Groaning softly at the delight of the challenge, Angel imprisoned Spike's other wrist.

Using the power and incredible presence of his naked body, he corralled Spike back toward his own room. Spike glanced warily behind him. 'No, Angel, don't! Don't read philosophy to me! I'll do anything; I promise; only save me from that!'

Angel backed him to the wall and then glanced up. Spike raised his eyes, too, but before he could comment, he was picked up and suspended by a bracket that supported one of Angel's swords.

His toes just brushed the floor; his whole body hung lean and stretched, every muscle prominent.

He pouted at Angel, a real frisson of fear running down his spine. They'd done this for real too many times in the past for it to be truly fun for him. He preferred dominating Angel and swallowed at the sense of helplessness.

Angel leant on him and kissed him deeply. 'Let the fear go, Spike. I won't hurt you.'

'I hurt you.'

'I like it.'

'I should.'

Angel cupped his face and stroked him with his thumb. 'You've been hurt too many times in the past to lose yourself enough to enjoy it. You are still… here. You need to… slip away.'

'I can't let go. I'm all I've ever had.'

Angel dipped his head. 'You've got me now.'

There was silence for a moment then Spike whispered, 'Okay.'

Angel went to his cabinet and pressed the button that revealed the more interesting toys behind. He selected a long, single-stranded whip and ran it lovingly though his fingers before introducing it to Spike: just running it over his skin with the lightest of touches.


Angel was readjusting the lighting in the room - softening it - and only murmured that he'd heard. He turned back and tested the whip to the air, making it crack with power.


At that, Angel looked up, more focused. 'What?'

'Get me down; I'm gonna….'

'I won't hurt you, Spike- not more than you can…. OH! FUCKING HELL!'

Angel skipped back before the vomit hit his toes.


Gritting his teeth, Angel lifted him off the hook.

'My head hurts.'

Angel held the slumped figure in his arms and suddenly crushed him in tightly. 'Come with me.'

He put an arm over Spike's shoulders and led him to the shower, releasing the cuffs, washing him lovingly. He put him into the bed and made him comfortable and then went to fetch some food. He sat alongside him, feeding him the blood slowly from a mug with a spoon, and Spike gave him a small, contrite glance. 'Sorry. Must have been something in the… water.'

'Yeah. That'll do it every time.'

'Stop feeding me like a bleedin' baby! Why are you bloody smiling?'

'Because I can.'

'And, huh?'

Angel smiled some more and put the mug and spoon down on the bedside table. He rearranged them for a while then said without looking at Spike, 'You do it so effortlessly: this switching between being demon and human, human and demon. You can live in both worlds- be either or both or none. But I've never been able to do it. I'm not… comfortable… with humans. Bite or ignore- until you, that is.' He gave Spike a small glance then looked away again. 'I wanted to have some fun with the whip. Now I want to baby you. You're my….' After one further move of the spoon, he then held Spike's gaze and didn't drop it again. 'You're my lover, Spike- my link to being human. I think I can admit that I want this now, without fearing what that says about me.'

Spike looked away for a moment, surprised by the intense emotions Angel's words stirred in his heart. Without looking back, he just pulled Angel onto the bed with him and murmured, 'Love me then.'

Warm from the shower, flushed slightly from his heartfelt declaration, Angel almost heard a pulse thumping around his body. Blood rushed to his erection, swelling it as he smelt Spike's skin, felt him under his hands.

'Turn over.'

Spike didn't hesitate; he turned swiftly and gave Angel the access he needed. Angel didn't hesitate either; he entered quickly and skilfully, making it intensely pleasurable for them both. Spike gasped and arched down; Angel cried out as he embedded fully, and then he tipped his head back and watched unnaturally bright stars as he made love.

He didn't miss the demon in him for a minute. He breathed softly as he worked himself deep inside Spike's body. He ran his hands over Spike's back - stroking him, treating him as something very precious - and not for a moment did the hands feel empty without a whip. He expressed his love with gentle touches and murmured endearments that, as a human child, he had learnt to suppress. When he felt that he was about to reach orgasm, he slowed down and waited for Spike to catch up, working him instead, caressing his need, building him up until they could come together.

When Spike nodded that he was there, Angel began to speed up inside him. Spike suddenly rose up on his knees, and Angel grasped him around the middle, and they shuddered together as they released.

When it was over, when the harsh cries had died, Angel eased himself backward and pulled Spike carefully with him so they stayed joined, the back of Spike's head lying in the hollow of his neck. He kept his hands on Spike's belly, enjoying the feel of the wet, cum-covered skin and the hard muscles still trembling slightly from the power of his lover's orgasm.

The stars returned to their natural faintness, but Angel smiled and lodged the memory of that moment deep inside. He sighed then rolled to his side, embracing and spooning Spike against him. He didn't attempt to speak; he knew Spike had fallen deeply asleep as soon as the orgasms had finished.

Spike woke when he felt Angel's tension. He stretched in the bed, snuggled closer into the warmth of the other body and said, still half-asleep, 'What?'

Angel flicked his eyes to the bedside clock and said evenly, 'Wesley's not called.'

'Oh.' Spike closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, glad it was nothing to do with him.

He opened them again and frowned. 'Where's Dickhead?'

Angel mentally ground his teeth. 'With Cordelia. She volunteered. He accepted too readily, I thought. Maybe he's been disconnected.'

'What and who?'

'Wesley. He said he would call me. He landed sometime yesterday afternoon. He should be at the house by now. Maybe there's no telephone working.'

'Yeah, we've not got phone boxes in England yet, Mate- still using bonfires to send signals.'

'So… why hasn't he called?'

Spike didn't voice his suspicions about this, still feeling that uncharacteristic flush of shame at Wesley's words. 'He probably went in the library and got… you know… all reader-y. Go to sleep. He'll call.'

Angel nodded as if he accepted this.

Spike chuckled. 'You can't sleep if you're doing that….'

Angel smiled into the warm skin of Spike's back and slipped the finger he'd just been teasing him with in fully. Spike hissed softly and turned onto his belly, pillowing his head on his arms. Angel knelt up beside him and explored the soft channel. It was still wet from his cum, and his finger sank right up to his knuckle. He frowned; it wasn't far enough. He slid a second and third finger in and got a satisfactory groan from Spike.

It seemed such an easy thing after that.

He pulled out and re-entered with his whole hand.

Spike rose off the bed, his back bowing, his eyes wide. 'Ahhh.'

'Good ahhh?'


Angel nodded and eased his hand into a fist.


'Good uhhh?'


He twisted it around for a while as if winding a clock, and Spike began to pant heavily. When Angel began to pump it in and out, Spike cried out harshly, and then pushed his face into the mattress to help him be silent.

Angel slipped his other hand around and took Spike's cock for him, so as he pushed one fist in, he let the slick erection slide through his other, when he pulled one out, the other ran tightly over the veined walls of Spike's cock.

He pumped Spike between his hands until he felt him lengthen and stiffen, then quickly swapped his fist with his cock and emptied himself into the stretched, wet channel.

Spike's cum shot out over the eager fingers, and Angel gently milked the orgasm until it was over.

Wrapping himself once more around Spike's thin, strong body, Angel did as he'd been told, and went back to sleep.

Spike smelt coffee and bacon when he woke and sat up immediately, the sensation being so strange.

Angel turned where he stood cooking at the stove and smiled. 'Hungry?'

Spike nodded then frowned deeply. 'Shit. Yeah. I'm starving!'

He crawled off the bed and padded over to sit on one of the stools.

'Put something on- you can't eat naked.'

Spike huffed and mumbled something that Angel didn't catch, but obediently went to fetch some jeans.

Angel scooped the eggs and bacon out onto Spike's plate and added a slice of toast. He poured himself some coffee and sat on the other side of the bar, leaning on his elbows, watching Spike.

'He'll call, Angel.'

'What! I can make my favourite person some breakfast, can't I?'

'Oh, yeah, sure you can. Not complaining here. Just sayin', that's all: he'll call.'

Angel couldn't help a small glance at the clock again. 'Well, why doesn't he?'

'Maybe the flight's delayed. What's he gonna say?'


'This is good. When did we get food in?'

Angel smiled and stretched. 'I'm going to take a shower. There's a paper there- if you can remember how to read.'

Only getting two fingers for that, Angel stretched again then went back toward the bedroom. The telephone rang, and with a grin, he snatched it up. He listened for a minute then put it back slowly.

'Better now?'

'Cordy's had a vision. I've got to go.' He had a quick shower and dressed.

'Want me to come?'

'How quickly can you get dressed?'

Spike pulled on a T-shirt and gave him a look.

Angel frowned. 'How can you do that? You're covered in….'

'You, Angel. I'm covered in you, and that's kinda okay with me.'

Wesley had still not called by that evening. Angel's anxiety began to infect everyone. No one was sure who suggested it, but by the time another hour had passed, Angel was on the telephone, booking a flight to England.

Spike stood at the coffee bar with his back to the room- he was very sure he hadn't suggested it. The human had impressed him, though. It had been a clever trick: pretend to leave to give them some space then effectively separate them- divide and rule. Spike had the distinct picture in his mind of Wesley sitting in a semi, staring at a phone in glee.

He kept his back to the room, because he realised there was nothing he could do or say that would make the situation any better. He had to let Angel go. He had to trust him. Suddenly, gritting his teeth, Spike turned and went decidedly toward Angel's office. He went in, closed the blinds, and shut the door.

Surprised, Angel put the handset gently back into the cradle and tented his hands under his chin. Spike perched on the side of the desk and lit a cigarette. 'I'm not happy about you going to England. I don't trust Wesley, but I trust you- totally. So, I think you should go, and I'm happy about it. Okay?'

He stood up and went back out, squaring his shoulders.

Angel watched his back with a fond smile then completed his arrangements.

Spike drove him to the airport, and the traffic was heavy, demanding his concentration. Angel didn't have that excuse, but he was quiet, too, for a while.

Only when they pulled into the parking bay did he turn and put his hand lightly on Spike's arm. 'I'm glad you trust me. That seems… important somehow.'

Spike nodded, pouting, then said, 'Fuck it,' under his breath and turned to Angel. 'I do, Angel. It's weakness- it's better not to trust anyone cus then you can't be hurt. But I do. I trust you. If anything happens- talk. You promised we'd talk.'

'I promise that if the slightest temptation crosses my mind to touch Wesley in anyway with any part of my body, I'll call and get permission first, okay?'

Spike smiled. 'Pillock. By the way, I'm thinking of going back to the demon kind of relationship we used to have: blood, fucking, fighting?

'Oh. Pity.'


'Because I was going to kiss you and bring you back something cool from London.'

Spike suppressed a smile. 'Just go, will you?'

'That's what I said to Wesley- see? Talking here!'

'Fuck off. Phone me when you get there.'

'To the house, yeah.'


Spike wanted to watch him walk away in the mirror, so was glad Angel's demon status prevented that pathetic display.

Sighing, he pulled out and turned back to face the traffic alone.

Go to chapter 3

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